Only Happy When It Rains
by Seirei
Summary: During the summer before Harry's sixth year, he begins to understand the forces that control his life and changes sides. Harry/Tom slash.
1. Default Chapter

Only Happy When It Rains  
  
One: Harry's Betrayal  
  
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling and some corporations. I own nothing but the plot and some odd characterizations. Yes, I know they go OOC, but I can do whatever the hell I want, so get over it.  
  
A/N: This is a Tom/Harry slash story, people. Don't like it? Don't read it. [] indicates thought.  
  
Harry Potter was sitting in his room at Privet Drive. It was about three weeks before he would go back to Hogwarts for his sixth year and the summer had been the most boring yet.  
  
At first, the Dursleys had made him work, but, after a well-timed letter from Sirius, they had taken to tactfully ignoring him. Which, though it was preferable to doing chores, made his summer dreadfully boring. He spent most of his time sitting in his room doing homework, reading, or gazing out the window.  
  
Because he had a lot of time in which to think, some rather strange thoughts had begun to rattle around in his head. One of the most prominent of these was the fact that he wasn't certain if he agreed with the side he was on anymore. He'd thought very hard about the war during his long hours of solitude and several things had become almost distressingly obvious. All of this could be summed up with one statement: Albus Dumbledore was a manipulative, conniving, control freak, who had withheld information right from the start.  
  
[The wonders of the wizarding world, the destiny people placed on me, the lies I was told regularly, and, most of all, the novel of being accepted blinded me. Well, not anymore, I am sixteen years old, an adult according to the laws of wizards, and I will not be manipulated anymore. From now on, I do not trust anyone to look out for me but me.]  
  
It was a good decision, at least in Harry's opinion, and he promised himself that he would hold to it. He moved on to another topic of thought.  
  
[Voldemort's side is starting to look better and better, his ideals actually make sense, unlike the ideals of my so-called side. As much as it would shock my associates, I'm beginning to understand his way of looking at things, and I like it more and more. I wonder if he would like my help. Ha! Wouldn't that be a lark? I'd damn near kill to see the looks on my associates' faces if I switched sides. That alone is almost sufficient reason to join Voldemort. Of course, we'd have to work some things out first, starting with the fact that I would not under any circumstances wear his dark mark. And I'd have to figure out a way of avoiding the pain I feel when I get to close to him, but I'm working on that regardless. Hmm, this idea is getting better by the second; I'm honestly considering it. Maybe I'll go through with it, the reactions I'd get would be priceless, and I like the power bit. What can I say? I'd like the power a high position in Voldemort's ranks would give me.]  
  
"Boy!" Vernon called as he came into the room.  
  
"Yes, Vernon?" Harry replied coolly.  
  
"Dudley's school books have gone missing."  
  
"So?"  
  
"What did you do with them?"  
  
"I didn't touch the damn things, he probably disposed of them himself. Gods know he hates studying. I fail to see how his stupidity is my fault."  
  
"What?" Vernon roared, "How dare you, you little heathen!"  
  
"Oh, shut up, won't you?" Harry rolled his eyes and returned to staring out the window.  
  
Vernon sputtered incoherently for a moment before stomping out of the room.  
  
[It's a wonder the ceiling didn't fall in on my head, what with that buffoon stomping around in here. What a moron, I didn't touch Dudley's goddamned books. It never ceases to amaze me, the level of stupidity in this household. And, worse, he broke my train of thought. Where was I? Ah, yes, joining Voldemort. I wonder if he'd allow me to call him Tom? Voldemort is simply hideous, dreadfully unfortunate. Tom may be simple, but at least it's not unattractive. Gods, I'm bored. And I still think that I ought to join him. Tonight I've got a rather one-track mind; I can't pull away from thoughts of changing sides. To be perfectly honest, were he to ask me to join him, I wouldn't say no.]  
  
At that moment, the door to Harry's room burst open and, before Harry could react, a stunning spell hit him and he fell.  
  
When Harry awoke, he was lying on a pallet in a small, stonewalled room; he was not alone.  
  
"Hello, Harry Potter," Voldemort said pleasantly, "welcome back to the world of the living."  
  
"Thanks," Harry muttered, rubbing his head; he realized that his scar didn't hurt.  
  
"I see you've noticed my cure."  
  
"Yes, thank you, that was so very inconvenient."  
  
He raised his eyebrows at this; Harry noticed that he looked incredibly different from the last time he'd laid eyes on him.  
  
[Which makes sense, as the last time we met was at the end of my fourth year. He's actually rather good looking, in a dignified sort of way. Did I really just think that? Ye Gods, I did, heaven help me.]  
  
"Well, Harry. May I call you Harry?"  
  
"Be my guest,"  
  
"I have a proposition for you,"  
  
"I'm listening," Harry tilted his head slightly to the right.  
  
"To begin with, I happen to think you have the potential to be great, very great, I don't want to kill you. So, one last time, I'm offering you the opportunity to join me."  
  
Harry didn't even have to think about it, he'd done all his thinking before, "Done."  
  
"Fabulous,"  
  
"Is there a protocol for this? Forms I have to sign? Promises I have to make? I'll do it all, but I won't wear your mark."  
  
"I need you to swear loyalty to me, you may do so however you wish. And, in your case, I shan't make you bear my mark."  
  
Harry nodded, drew in a breath, and said the fateful words that would change his whole world, "I, Harry James Potter, pledge my loyalty to you, Lord Voldemort, forever and without reservation. Will that do?"  
  
"Quite," Voldemort held out his hand, "Welcome to the ranks, Harry, I'm happy to have you."  
  
Harry smiled and took the offered hand. 


	2. A Change of Scenery

Two: A Change of Scenery  
  
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling and some corporations. Blah, blah, blah. C'mon, people I'm sure you know the drill by now. It still applies.  
  
A/N: [] indicates thought. Still. By the way, I'm plugging, go to and read my fics there, penname is Aleena Malfoy. ::Smiles innocently, nobody buys it::  
  
Lord Voldemort pulled Harry to his feet and led him down a corridor to a bedroom.  
  
"You may sleep here," he said, flicking his wand at the candles, "I trust you will be comfortable enough."  
  
Harry nodded, "Thank you, I'm sure it will be fine."  
  
Voldemort left. Harry sat down on the bed and looked around. The room was large and spacious, the carpet was soft and dark green, the furniture was mahogany, there were black silk sheets on the bed, and candles hovered in the corners, casting eerie shadows on everything. Tilting his head back, Harry gazed up at the high vaulted ceiling, momentarily watching the play of shadows and light there.  
  
[Shadows of light, shadows of light, shades of gray and shadows of light.] Harry thought whimsically.  
  
There was a chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling, a huge, silver chandelier. A huge, unlit, silver chandelier.  
  
[How decadent. What on earth could posses someone to put in a massive silver chandelier and then not use it? It's absurd. It is impressive, though, decadent, but impressive. I suppose, if you've nothing better to do with your money, things like that are fine. This place is beautiful, though, simply beautiful. I can just imagine the looks on the Dursleys' faces if they saw where I am now.]  
  
He chuckled at the picture his imagination supplied and flopped back onto the velvet comforter, sighing contentedly. If this wasn't what heaven was like, he didn't know what was.  
  
[I like it here, of course, I've only been here for a few hours, but it's nice, I feel as though I've finally come home. And I like the décor; it suits the overall mood of this place. Speaking of which, where is this? Hmm, I'll have to ask Tom when I see him next. Oh, I'm already calling him "Tom", am I? This is pathetic; next thing I know, I'll be head over heels in love with the man. He is really good looking, though, and could be likeable if he tried. Okay, stopping now, this is not a good train of thought to follow.]  
  
Harry shook his head; it was not necessarily a good thing when your thoughts refused to listen to your sense of reason. Although, all things considered, Harry's sense of reason was somewhat lacking, to put it mildly.  
  
[Okay, so I find the man attractive, it's partially the power, I think. I'm beginning to develop a taste for power. Which is not always a good thing, power is like some sort of drug; it's hard to live without after a while. And I'm becoming addicted to it. Charming, absolutely bloody charming. I think I'm losing my mind. But I don't think that matters anymore.]  
  
Harry shook his head, got up, and went through the wardrobe in search of some pajamas or something. He found a green nightshirt and, with a diffident shrug, donned it.  
  
Climbing into the massive bed, Harry fell into an easy sleep, feeling, for the first time, that he was where he truly belonged. 


	3. Questions and Answers

Three: Questions and Answers  
  
Disclaimer: They're still not mine; though I am keeping Tom locked in my basement, so, well, book five might be a little late.  
  
A/N: [] as per usual, indicates thought. Sorry the chapters are so brief, but I have a long piece going at FA, so I'm trying to keep it short. Please, if you like this, review! I love reviews to death and they motivate me to write faster.  
  
Harry woke a couple of hours later, feeling refreshed and well rested. Climbing out of the comfortable bed, he dressed in some of the clothes in the wardrobe. The clothes fit well and Harry wondered whether they had been made for him.  
  
[Wouldn't surprise me if they were.]  
  
There came a knock at the door, Harry went over and opened it.  
  
Tom smiled cordially and, as Harry stepped back, moved to just within the doorway.  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
"You already are, but I don't see any reason why not."  
  
He smiled, "Ah, someone with a brain and the audacity to use it in my presence, how refreshingly different. Most of my people would simply say "yes, sire" and leave it at that. I can already see that we are going to get along beautifully."  
  
"That's good, joining you would have been a stupid move on my part were that not the case."  
  
Tom's smile widened, "Yes, it is so nice to have someone who is unafraid to speak his mind around me." he paused, "Come, we are in need of a conversation, we're going to my study."  
  
"All right," Harry said, agreeably enough.  
  
Tom nodded once and turned to leave the room, Harry caught up and followed, one step behind (no accident, that) down the wide hallway. When they got to the end of the hall, Tom turned and went down a flight of stairs, then through the first door on the right after muttering a password. Harry, following still, entered after him. The door swung shut once both men were in the room.  
  
"Please, sit down," Tom motioned to the chairs near the fireplace.  
  
Once they were both seated, Tom leaned back to look at Harry intently for a moment, and then began to speak.  
  
"You have questions," it was not a question.  
  
"Yes, shall I begin?"  
  
"By all means,"  
  
"Well, to begin with, where are we? Where is this place located?"  
  
"We're still in England, about twenty miles from any towns, this place is hidden from everyone. No one ever comes unless I want them to."  
  
"That's good, we wouldn't want any.unexpected visitors, now would we? So, that answers my first question, somewhat."  
  
"There are more?"  
  
"But of course," Harry smiled, "Let's see. Ah, of course, what is my role here?"  
  
"It's whatever you want it to be, Harry."  
  
"Oh? And what if I wanted to, say, co-rule? What would you say to that?" he smirked slightly as he said this.  
  
"I would say that you are very bold," his smirk matched Harry's, "And that that would be agreeable."  
  
"Well, then, that's what I want it to be."  
  
Tom laughed out loud at that, "Oh, I like you, I really do! Fine, done, we're in this together now."  
  
"Why are you giving me this so quickly? One would think you'd be a bit slower to trust me."  
  
"Well, I don't think that's necessary. You chose this honestly, I recognize truth when I hear it, and you're not lying. Though, I have a feeling you're a damn good liar, when it suits you to be." He shrugged, a gesture not to be taken lightly, a gesture meant for use among equals; Harry didn't miss this, "I don't feel that there is any need not to trust you. Besides, I've been planning on bringing you over for a long time; I've always felt that we would work well together. Hasn't anyone ever told you how alike we are?"  
  
"Yes, actually they have. I trust you, too, far more than I ever trusted any of them. I always have trusted you, really, even when we were enemies, I trusted you because, deep down, I understood you and, therefore, had no reasons not to trust. After all, when your friends fail you, the next best thing is an enemy that knows you well. For me, that's always been you."  
  
"That's an interesting sentiment, and entirely too true. But, we're not enemies now, are we?"  
  
"No, I would certainly hope not. We're, allies, friends, co-conspirators. Shall I go on?"  
  
Tom chuckled, "Oh, by all means,"  
  
"Hmm, partners in crime, these are getting more ridiculous by the second, co-rulers, I can't think of any more. Care to have a go at it?"  
  
"No, I think you've just about covered it. 'Friends' is the one I think we should strive to achieve. I would very much like to be able to call you a friend."  
  
"I would also very much like to be able to call you a friend." [And perhaps a little more than that. Now, where the hell did that come from?]  
  
"Yes, well, I have things to do, and you ought to learn to navigate this place. You may go anywhere you like, my, or rather, our Death Eaters, have been informed that you are no longer the enemy, they'll leave you alone. Feel free to call upon them if you need anything. Have a pleasant afternoon."  
  
"What about Snape?"  
  
"You mean Dumbledore's spy? He knows nothing; I only pretend to trust him because it gives Dumbledore a feeling of false security. I miss very little, you know, I've known that Severus was a spy since the beginning. So, you don't have to worry."  
  
"Hmm, yes, I wouldn't want my.change of allegiance to get out prematurely."  
  
"No, no we don't want that."  
  
He turned to go, and then, right as he reached the door, turned and said, "Oh, by the way, would you care to join me for dinner?"  
  
"I'd be delighted,"  
  
"Wonderful, come down to the small dinning room at, hmm, six thirty. If you're not sure where it is by than, ask someone, they'll be happy to tell you."  
  
"Great, I'll see you at six thirty, then."  
  
"Yes, till then."  
  
He turned away and left, Harry sat back in his chair, staring at the door for a few minutes of silent thought.  
  
[Well, well, well, dinner with Tom, things are getting interesting very quickly. I'm liking this place more and more by the moment.] 


	4. Dinner Date, Part One

Four: Dinner Date Part One  
  
Disclaimer: The day I own any of this is the day Satan is found ice-skating to work. They still don't belong to me.  
  
A/N: [] still signifies thought. I don't know why I keep putting that, only complete morons would forget that, and I think you all marginally more intelligent than that. Thanks, by the way, for all the fabulous reviews. I love reviews! There will be slash soon, I promise; the beginning is just introducing the story. And, I am so sorry that this took so long.  
  
Shortly after Tom disappeared, Harry began wandering the hallways, with no idea whatsoever about where he was going. Really, he didn't particularly care; he was just walking. Walking, and waiting, and thinking. He wasn't as sure of himself as he appeared to be, in fact, he was a bit uneasy. This uneasiness stemmed from the fact that he knew that those he had once considered his friends were not going to like what he had done for himself.  
  
[Than again, why do I care what they think? They abandoned me, Ron and Hermione more than anyone. When they got together I became the odd man out. Honestly, I've only received one letter from them this year, one! Not that I begrudge them their happiness, it just seems unfair that I've suddenly become the alienated one in that group. Well, I'm not exactly a part of the group now, am I? I've left them behind, left that life behind.]  
  
He continued walking, and walking, and walking some more. Then, turning a corner, he nearly ran into Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Potter?!" he snapped, then, remembering something said, "I'm sorry, that was entirely my fault."  
  
Harry smirked and said sarcastically, "I'm sure." And, with that, walked on.  
  
As Harry meandered casually away, he could feel Malfoy's eyes in his back, the confusion there.  
  
[He's probably surprised that The-Boy-Who-Lived isn't all purity and goodness. Well, that's really his problem; I don't give a damn about Mr. Lucius Malfoy and what he thinks. Ah, it's wonderful to be able to say whatever the hell I want to them and no worry about any repercussions. It's almost too funny, how little they can do to me now. I'm certain that they all resent it, but are too afraid of being hurt or killed to say anything.]  
  
Harry spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the halls of Tom's.place. He really didn't know what else to call it, it was just a new place. At about five thirty, he went to track down the small dining room, he thought it a good idea to know where it was before he had to be there. It took some patience and time, bt after twenty minutes of search, he found it.  
  
[Okay, Harry, remember where this room is. You'll need to find it again.]  
  
Pausing in the room for a moment, Harry looked around, taking in details. It was really a rather gorgeous room, dimly lit and elegantly decorated. There was a table in the centre.  
  
[If this is the small dining room, I wonder how big the other one is?]  
  
Chuckling softly, Harry walked out of the room and went on to find his own room again.  
  
"Jesus Christ, this is place is a maze." He muttered as he tried vainly to figure out where the hell he was. Before he could do that, though, a terrible pain washed over him, centering in his head. He staggered to the wall and leaned against it, breathing deeply and massaging his temples.  
  
At that moment, for the second time that day, Lucius Malfoy saw Harry Potter. This time, however, instead of crashing into him, Lucius saw him from the end of the hallway. The boy was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, rubbing his temples as though he had a headache.  
  
"Potter," he came closer, "What are you doing?"  
  
Harry looked at the man; his eyes open to mere slits, "Are you blind? What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"Rubbing your head, what I should have said is: what's the matter?"  
  
"Pain."  
  
"Pain?"  
  
"Yes, Malfoy, pain, terrible, burning pain. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room to lie down."  
  
"Wait," Lucius held up a hand as Harry made to go, "I'll walk you there, it wouldn't do to have you get seriously injured on the way."  
  
Harry frowned slightly, but allowed the taller man to grab his elbow and lead him off down the hall.  
  
"Are you not having dinner with him?" Harry didn't need to ask who 'he' was.  
  
"Yes, in about an hour, why?"  
  
"Then you should probably take something for the pain. I'll get it for you."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"It's really no trouble."  
  
[Dear gods, the man is actually acting civil! I'm getting scared now. Lucius Malfoy is treating me civilly.]  
  
Lucius got Harry a potion, which Harry took because he knew damn well that if anyone hurt him, it would be on their heads. The pain went away almost instantly and, after assuring Harry that it was really no trouble, Lucius took his leave. Leaving Harry to stare at the closed door with a bemused expression on his face.  
  
"That was strange."  
  
TBC  
  
Okay, people, here's the deal. I have been so busy lately that I have had no time to write. So, this took ages. And, I'm turning it into a two-part chapter because I want to post something soon and this is long enough to be part one. Next part: the dinner itself and what happens after. Ta ta, darlings! 


	5. Dinner Date, Part Two

Only Happy When It Rains  
Chapter Four, Part Two  
  
Disclaimer: Still applies. ::sarcasm:: would you look at that. ::sarcasm ends::  
  
A/N: It's the same rules as before, [] signifies thought. Sorry this took so long, I got a lot of work piled on me all at once. So, there was no writing time. Then I got really sick, so that screwed everything up even more. Happy reading! Oh, and make me happy and review, you don't have to, but it would make me a happy writer.  
  
When Harry got to the small dining room, he found food already on the table and Tom waiting patiently.  
  
"Ah, Harry, good, do sit down."  
  
Harry sat and looked at the food. It looked delicious.  
  
"You know," Harry said conversationally, "No one realizes exactly how.pleasant life here is. People are not routinely tortured and/or killed, contrary to popular belief."  
  
Tom laughed, "Do people honestly believe that? How would I keep any followers if I tortured and killed so many?"  
  
"I don't know, but it is common belief. The food looks excellent, by the way."  
  
"Oh, thank you," he took a bite of the potatoes.  
  
Harry started in on his dinner and found that it tasted as good as it smelled and looked.  
  
"Mmmm, it's wonderful, particularly after living with the muggles for weeks."  
  
"Was it bad?"  
  
"Oh, gods, yes, they hated me so much. I didn't get fed very well, or treated any better. Everything that went wrong was my fault in their eyes."  
  
"I remember living with muggles. They don't understand people like us, so we get treated poorly. And, the wizards who allow us to live with them are no better because they turn a blind eye to everything that they do."  
  
"Precisely. You understand perfectly."  
  
"Trust me, Harry, I will never allow you to go back to those.people." He sounded as though he could barely bring himself to call the Dursley's "people".  
  
A thought struck Harry, "Oh, but what about my education? Will I go back to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Hmm, that's a very good question." He appeared to ponder it for a moment, setting down his fork, "And one I haven't given any thought to. I think that for the present, it would be best if you returned to Hogwarts. But, then again, you would learn far more were I to educate you myself here. Really, it comes down to which is more important, your education, or outward appearances."  
  
"Personally, I'm leaning towards the education."  
  
His eyes sparkled, "You don't want to go back to Hogwarts?" He smirked.  
  
"Not particularly."  
  
"Good, I have other plans for you. Nothing terribly serious, but I want to conduct your education myself, there are things I can teach you that they can't. But, the final is yours of course."  
  
[Well, it's a change from having my decisions made for me without even mentioning them to me. Oh well, what harm can it do that would be worse than what's already been done?]  
  
"All right, why not?"  
  
"Perfect."  
  
Dinner progressed, the conversation fairly light and unimportant. Afterwards, Tom led Harry to a drawing room of sorts for more conversation. Harry had a feeling that the talk would be a lot less light and irrelevant. He was right.  
  
"So, Harry, have you any thoughts as to what exactly you want to study?"  
  
Harry paused thoughtfully, "Well. I'm not sure."  
  
"Would you be at all interested in the study of the Dark Arts?"  
  
"Yes, but,"  
  
"But you're worried that it will destroy you. You don't really understand the Dark Arts. It's just magic, just powerful, different magic. Any magic can be used for good or for evil; it isn't the magic itself that is inherently evil. Knowledge is power, what defines you as a person is how you use it once it's yours."  
  
Harry nodded, "Then, yes, I would like to learn."  
  
"Then," Tom rubbed his hands together, "That is where we shall centre your education."  
  
Harry was about to respond, but was cut off by a yawn. Tom smiled slightly.  
  
"You're tired, why don't you go to bed. I'll walk with you to make sure you don't get lost in this maze."  
  
"Thank you,"  
  
Tom walked along side Harry in silence, all the way up to Harry's rooms.  
  
At the door, Tom paused, almost nervously, then leaned close and brushed his lips lightly across Harry's.  
  
Then, as quickly as the kiss had happened, Tom had turned and walked away, leaving Harry confused, but strangely pleased.  
  
Okay, I did it! Hah! Be proud. Please leave a nice review. ::Smiles:: 


	6. Strange Days Have Found Us

Only Happy When It Rains 

Chapter Five: Strange Days Have Found Us

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be richer than god.  As I am still sitting here, that doesn't appear to be the case.

A/N:  Okay, huge apologies over the lack of updates for ::checks:: nine or so months.  I had a ton of computer troubles, the whole story got deleted, the hard drive crashed, said hard drive had to be replaced, I got stuck with way too much work and not enough time…you get the picture.  Giara Gryffindor left me a review that said, and I quote: 'Ahem, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WOMAN, UPDATE!'  So, I finally got around to setting aside the time to write this chapter.  I know it's short, but I'm trying my hardest to get this story back from wherever it is it meandered off to.  

And, in better news, I think I've figured out the formatting finally.

And on with the chapter!

-

Harry lay awake for a long time that night, first because of what had somehow become labelled in his mind: The Kiss, and then because his headache came back with all of hell's vengeance.  He wanted to get up and get something for it, but somehow couldn't bring himself to move.

_Potion, pain killer potion, come over here without me having to move to get you…_he thought, not even lifting his head.

The painkiller potion, of course, didn't move, but he hadn't exactly been expecting it to, he was powerful, but not quite _that_ powerful.  Or at least, not yet.

Dammit.  Dammit.  Dammit.  I need to do something about the headache, pain thing.  It's not Tom, he fixed that, it shouldn't be this place, I've never known places to set off pain reactions – besides, isn't the place linked to Tom, so if he doesn't effect me, neither would the place? – and I can't think of anything else it could be.  Am I sick?  Do I have some sort of disease that is making itself apparent?  Dear gods, why me?  

Even as he mentally complained to himself, part of him, the newer part that was cold and detached, chided him for weakness.  He wondered if perhaps he might have been going mad?  Did madness start with a split of your mind?  Or was this, possibly, how Tom Riddle had become Lord Voldemort initially, a split of his personality, not too bad, but just enough to have part of him think poorly of some quality he possessed?  Did the old Harry Potter, the gullible one who had believed the lies still exist beneath the collected exterior?  

That's it; I've finally gone mad.

This wasn't normally a comforting thought, however, in that case it did help lull him off to sleep.  It was a certainty, a constant, something that he could hold onto as literal fact.  And that in and of itself was immensely comforting.  Concrete facts seemed to be in short supply right about then, anything he could grasp, could cling to, was helpful.

Unfortunately, any comfort gained was lost almost immediately due to the nightmares that plagued him once he did find sleep.

They were nightmares of the worst kind, the ones that were all sensation, all feeling, nothing tangible that you could see or hear or touch.  It was the kind of nightmare from which he felt absolute terror and loss, feelings without reason or, really, cause; the loss was the worst of all, because with it came pain, horrible pain.  Terror and loss and devastating pain, and nothing to see or hear, no noticeable cause, the worst nightmare he could ever remember having because there was no way to rationalize it, no way to push it away, no way to claw your way out by pulling towards reality.  Reality was just too far away, a faint light gleaming somewhere just beyond your line of sight, and every time you turned your head, it seemed to dance away, to linger again out the corner of your eye, where you could sense it, but never really catch a glimpse. 

Harry woke up sobbing less than an hour after falling asleep, dry, heaving sobs followed by tears that burned his eyes like acid and made his cheeks feel raw.  That part of him that had kept him together by chiding him for weakness was conspicuously silent.

He didn't sleep again that night; the headache had just become the least of his problems. 

-

As I said, sorry for the shortness, I'm trying to collect my thoughts to work on this again; this was what I could come up with right now.

Please be kind and leave a review, reviews do motivate me.


	7. The Time to Hesitate is Through

Only Happy When It Rains Chapter Six: The Time to Hesitate is Through 

Disclaimer: To quote Roger from _Rent_: zoom in on my empty wallet.

A/N: I'm still trying, really I am.  Four months is way better than nine months, you have to admit.  I still don't know where I'm going here, but I'll figure it out eventually.  Thanks very much for all the reviews.

-

Due to various forces beyond his control, Harry didn't get much sleep that night.  After he woke up from the nightmares, he found that he was unable to fall back to sleep, the fear of nightmares, childish but all too present, kept him awake.  He attempted sleep for an hour or so, and then he gave up and, getting out of bed, began going through the bookcase against one wall.  

The titles were fairly normal, some textbooks, a few novels that Harry had seen in the Hogwarts library, in fact, the whole thing was almost distressingly boring.  

Until Harry reached the end of the top shelf.

Chaos Through A Sieve: A Theory on Time And Space 

_That looks interesting._

It was, actually.  He read it through, cover to cover before dawn and spent a half hour after that staring into space.  The theory in it was _very_ interesting indeed.  He wondered vaguely if it was possible to transcend time in such a manor.

_And if you could!  My good gods, the possibilities!  You could do anything, you could know everything, you could stop events from happening, you could prevent people from stopping something.  Someone with that power would be God.  Is it possible, though?  I mean, really.  And, even if it is, would it be expedient to attempt it?  Would the risks involved be worth the potential gain?  Gods help me, but I would give anything to find out._

At that moment, someone knocked on the heavy door.

"Yes?" Harry sighed irritably; he hated it when his thoughts were cruelly interrupted like that.

Lucius Malfoy opened the door and stepped just barely inside before shutting it again.

"The Dark Lord requests your company for breakfast.  He has informed me to tell you that it will be served in the small dining room in forty-five minutes."

"Thank you, Lucius, I'll be there." Harry stood up and set the book back on the shelf. "Tell him, would you?"

"Of course." Lucius gave a sort of half nod, spun on his heel, and left the room.

_Forty-five minutes.  Enough time to bathe, at least.  And think about a way to proceed from here.  What in the hell does he want from me?  More than that, what does he expect from me?  Gods damn it all, I didn't want things to get this complicated this quickly._

While he showered, and, in fact, all the way to breakfast, he pondered the best way to progress.  He knew what he wanted from Tom, and, from what he had already seen, Tom appeared to want the same thing.  How to get this moving, however, was the true question.

Tom was already seated and sipping a cup of tea when Harry arrived in the small dining room.  The places were set exactly as they'd been the night before, almost as though nothing had been touched except to clean away the remnants of their previous meal together.

"Morning, Tom," Harry said pleasantly, sitting down.

Tom's eyes met his.  "Good morning.  Did you sleep well?"

"Not at all, but that's all right."

Tom's eyes narrowed in concern. "You're not sleeping?  I'll have something prepared for you."

Harry waved his hand lightly through the air. "No, don't bother, it's fine."

"You're certain?"

"Of course.  I don't lie to people I trust except for under the most unusual of circumstances.  My sleeping habits do not fall into that category."

Tom smiled slightly. "I see." He hesitated, as though unsure. "Ah… Harry… about last night.  I completely understand if you would prefer to forget it ever happened and move on.  I see no reason why it should be allowed to damage our relationship."

"Tom," I cut him off, "It's fine.  More than fine, I was rather… pleased."

He blinked, once, slowly, much like a cat would. "Really?"

"Yes.  Didn't I just finish telling you that I don't lie?" Harry smirked slightly.

"Well then, that changes everything, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it does."

Harry smiled again and raised his cup.  Somehow, it didn't seem quite so complicated any longer.  


End file.
